


ripped a stitch

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Mouth gore, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Explicit Torture, Obsessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Unhealthy Relationships, mouth horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 04:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12674001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: “I’m tired of giving you a choice.”Or, the one where Dark wants Anti to let him in.





	ripped a stitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NightAurora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightAurora/gifts).



> For my good friend Sey, who always supports my writing, no matter what. 
> 
> They're not really into the whole YT fiction but they are rather enamored with Dark and Anti--and Danti, subsequently. They sent me a text a couple of days ago that read, "I am on a Dark kick today. Specifically Danti. Because mutual aggression but all Dark really."
> 
> I told them I'd throw something together, so this is the result. It's a lot more...gruesome than I intended, but still not bad enough to warrant an E rating, I think. Please let me know if I should shift it up. 
> 
> Anyway--all things aside, this was a lot of fun to write! I really love Danti and I've completely missed writing for it. I love experimenting with their characters. Anti being unhinged, Dark obsessive and strange. It's all very fascinating. I pulled a lot of Dark's lines from ADWM because Sey is super fascinated by the language of them as well.
> 
> Sorry for my long hiatus by the way! Life's been crazy. College and all that. But here's to this fic, and hopefully I'll post something not-so-gruesome soon! Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

His mouth bleeds, the sharp tang of copper dripping down his throat as he rips the last of the stitches from his lips. 

Steady hands—they don’t shake as much as they used to, so he guesses that this is improvement in his situation. He runs his tongue along the ruined skin, taking in the sting, saliva mixed with blood as it dribbles down his chin. He sponges the rot away with the back of his hand, ignoring the clank of the metal chains around his wrist tapping on the stone floor. 

In, out. Anti flexes his jaw, pain erupting in every seam, but he breathes through it. The pain makes him stronger.

“You’re getting good at that,” and there’s the Beast’s voice, icy and resigned. It— _he_ —sounds so pompous, so arrogant. Disturbing, distorted. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Every time,” Anti smiles in reply, the gesture causing another ripple of pain, lips splitting further, but he doesn’t wince, not once. Showing the pain to the Beast declares him the victor of their game, and he refuses to let it win. “It would hurt less if you stopped putting them in there.”

A soft laugh, holding no humor. The Beast stands behind him, gazing down at his kneeling form his cold, unforgiving eyes. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a pest, I wouldn’t have to.”

The Beast’s shoes clack on the floor, pristine and glossy towards the front of him. It’s not hard, given his position in the middle of the room. Anti keeps his eyes trained on the floor, determined not to look death in the eye, for he isn’t foolish, nor desperate. Not yet. 

Hooking a hand under his jaw, the Beast forces his head up. Their eyes meet, Anti’s sickly green meeting the cool, calculating red of Dark’s. Dark smiles, then, as if this is a game, and Anti feels like he’s looked Medusa in the eye, but instead of his body turning to stone, his body is cut into pieces, stitched together again and again for the Beast’s entertainment. 

Using his pointer finger, Dark traces the bloody holes over Anti’s lips, admiring the previous handiwork. This isn’t the first time Dark’s stitched his mouth shut in one of their little debacles, and he knows with clarity it won’t be the last. 

Poking his tongue out, Anti licks at his fingers, covering them in a mixture of saliva and blood as he wraps his tongue around the offending appendages in his mouth. Dark recoils, tossing his head away with a shove. He wipes his hand on his suit pants. “Naughty boy.” 

“Only for you,” Anti murmurs, with as much sarcasm as he can manage. He gets a sharp aftertaste of Dark’s fingers, the sprinkling of alcohol and cigarette ashes. Though, his mouth always tastes like ashes these days. 

“It seems every part of you bows to me,” Dark hums, the words a sticky drawl. “Except for that damn mouth.” 

“It has a mind of its own,” Anti sings, finding that, to a degree, he enjoys the sensation of having his jaw again. It feels nice to speak. He has no need to eat—it’s only a privilege Dark awards him when he’s feeling generous or if Anti’s good, which is never, so speaking is really the only thing he would use his jaw for. It’s why Dark has had no issues binding it shut, rendering him to be a mute puppet, held down by Dark’s chains and maneuvered by his wishes. “I thought you knew.” 

Dark sits in front of him, his ashen skin ghoulish in the dim light. He seems to be drinking Anti’s appearance in—he’s a Beast, truly. He loves owning things, loves possessing them, and he loves them even more when they’re broken, dependent on him and his good graces. Anti’s sure he gets off on it.

“I could kill you,” Dark mumbles, like a passing thought. “You’re down here, helpless. No one will help you. You’re completely at my mercy. Doesn’t that frighten you?”

Anti raises a brow. “Do you want me to beg?” 

“It’d be a pretty color on you,” Dark admits, and he smiles, all sharp teeth and bad intentions. 

Running a tongue over his broken lips, Anti gathers up a glob of saliva in his mouth before spitting at him. It’s weak at best, landing just at Dark’s feet, but it gets the desired effect. “I would literally rather die than give you the satisfaction of watching me beg.” 

“I figured,” the Beast says, and his hand reaches out. Anti mentally braces himself for a slap, a punch, anything—because Dark’s hands near him always mean pain—but Dark only puts a hand on his shoulder. “I really do love you, Anti, you know that, right?”

Anti feels his lips tear even more as he smiles, harsh and bitter. He doesn’t reply. 

Dark’s deft fingers shift, enclosing around his throat. It’s not hard enough for him to lose his breath, but it’s a warning. He doesn’t voice this. 

Then, “I’m tired of giving you a choice.” 

“We’re going in fucking circles,” Anti tilts his head, the first scowl of the night. It hurts like hell. “Get to the part where you fuck me and let’s be done with this.”

Dark’s hand squeezes his throat, and the breath rushes from Anti’s lungs, the involuntary choke escaping him. He presses his thumb down hard on his windpipe, but Anti knows better than to smack his hand away. He has some mobility of his hands, even if they are chained to the floor, but it’s better if he just takes it. He clenches his fists and tries to focus on the fleeting spots in his vision. 

Sliding in closer, Dark’s knees bump his, and he blows on his ear. “I suppose I can give you one last chance.”

He loosens his hold, and Anti swallows a gulp of air, his head jerking forward in a vain attempt to stabilize it. Dark’s free hand roams his grimy arm, reaching the cuff around his wrist. He taps it twice, letting the declaration hang between them for a long while before he murmurs, “So, go on. Take your pick, and let’s see how far down this rabbit hole…really goes.” 

There needn’t be a question. Anti is well aware of the question, the options that he has. The metaphorical axe hangs over his neck, trembling with anticipation, and Anti knows, without a doubt, that he will die in this dungeon, by Dark’s hands. No matter what he chooses, no matter what faux options he has, nothing will change this outcome. 

“You know the answer to that question,” Anti sneers out. “I—"

The words are barely out of his mouth when Dark connects their lips, a harsh clack of teeth and coarseness that send shivers up his spine. Dark squeezes his throat again, fisting his fingers into his sweaty, dirty hair, so hard he swears he can feel his scalp bleeding. He forces his way into his mouth, a slimy, wet heat that has no business feeling the way it does. 

All he knows these days is Dark. The smell of him, the taste of him, the feeling of him. If it’s not the bruises in his hips, it’s the cuts on his chest, the claw marks on his back, his splitting lips and bloody shoulders. This push and pull is familiar to him, the way Dark’s hand slides from his hair down to his shoulder, along the curve of his shoulder blade before yanking him forward. The chains around his wrists clang on the ground, and Dark shifts, pulling him into his lap. Anti straddles his waist, using the last of the length he has on his chains to raise his arms up, tangling into Dark’s hair. 

Dark breaks the kiss after a moment, their noses brushing, his breathing going heavy. When he gets Anti close and personal, it’s one of the few ways to break his calm. He twists his fingers into Anti’s ruined shirt. Again, there’s no question, but the silence fills it in.

“You know the answer,” Anti echoes, unable to help the giggle that comes out. It sounds wrong, unhinged, like himself again. “No.” 

He feels Dark’s anger before it hits him. His nails sink into Anti’s throat, his breath a hot, searing anger against the shell of his ear. “I can give you _anything_! _Whatever_ you want, Anti! If you want out of here, then so be it! If you want the world, _I’ll give it to you_. I can take you wherever you want to go. I can take you to places you most certainly _don’t_ want to go. All you have to do is let me in. Just let me in, Anti. I’ve been waiting so long for you.” 

Without waiting for a response, Dark noses along the column of his throat, pressing gentle, feather-light kisses to his shoulders, a stark contrast from his earlier ministrations. Anti tilts his head, allowing him further access to his neck, jerking at the soft drag of Dark’s teeth on his skin. 

“I’d rather you beat me until I was nothing,” Anti breathes, grinding his hips down onto Dark’s, mindful of the growing erection of his companion, ignoring his own. “I’d rather you kill me with your cock still in me, I’d rather you drink my blood, tear out my organs and feed them to me than let you in.” 

“A damn fool you are,” Dark’s fingers grip at the hems of his long-ruined shirt, yanking at the seams. He hears the fibers crumble under the Beast’s touch, feels his cold hands run along his lower back for a moment before they dip below his waistband. “One day, Anti, I’ll kill you. If I can’t have you, no one can. You’ll never know anyone else but me. You’ll be down here for the rest of your days. I’ll never let you go.” 

This isn’t the first time they’ve fucked on the floor. Dark shoves him off and Anti lets him, his back slamming against the unforgiving floor. The Beast towers above him, sliding the loose-fitting jeans from his hips, and Anti cackles again, familiar with the callouses of Dark’s fingers as they open him up, as if he needed to be stretched at this point, the crook of his fingers making him squirm, but he forces himself to remain still, which frustrates him.

“I know,” Anti murmurs, letting out a sigh as Dark slides in, his suit jacket tossed to the side, tie undone, pants not even gone, just pulled down enough to fuck him like a worthless whore. It still burns going in, after all this time, after all this use. “Fuck. Will you fucking move? Fuck me like you mean it.”

Dark braces a hand by his head, leaning down to kiss him again as he thrusts his hips out and in, swallowing every whine and moan that escapes him as if he’s the one that’s starving. 

“You’re _mine_ ,” he snarls, and Anti’s stupid, mortal shell trembles at that, tears stinging the corner of his eyes as pain engulfs his lower half. It’s mixed with an eerie sense of pleasure, one he always gets from Dark, and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this. The nights where he’s alone hurt more than this ever will, and Dark, however callous and angry his hands get, mean more than he wants to say. “Mine, Anti. You’re mine. I’d be yours, too, if only you’d _let me in_.” 

“Don’t you get it?” Anti laughs as Dark sinks his teeth into his neck, hard enough that he feels blood dribble down his chest. It’s the first of many new scars to come. “You’re already mine, darling. You have been since you got me.”

Dark mumbles something filthy in his ear, along the lines of _shut up or I’ll give your mouth something else to do_ , fucking him with ruthless abandon. Anti loops an arm around his neck, pulling him down into another sloppy kiss. The Beast’s mouth roams, nipping at his jawline, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from his eyes, and when he meets his gaze, Anti’s unsure if he sees death or love in the red hues. Perhaps there’s no difference between them. 

Soon, his companion spills over, hot and sticky. Anti wants to join him, eager to get himself off, but he knows better than to come from anything but Dark’s cock alone. Dark reinforces this by rocking his hips through his orgasm, bearing his weight down on Anti’s wrists to prevent him from using them. Anti comes with Dark’s lips against his, devouring the eruption that leaves his lungs. 

There’s no noise for a long while, only the sounds of their heavy breathing. Anti closes his eyes, the exhaustion of the situation finally settling into his bones, but he knows he won’t be able to sleep. He winces as Dark slides out, rising to his feet. Anti lies there for a moment, listening to the sound of Dark composing himself, rebuttoning his shirt, zipping up his pants. Anti rubs at the bleeding spot on his neck before sitting up, fixing Dark with a blank stare.

Reaching for his discarded suit jacket, the Beast reaches inside, withdrawing a spool of thread, a needle woven into it. He kneels, setting it in front of him, a slight distance away. 

“I’ll be back,” he promises, and it sounds like a threat, too. “To fix up that mouth of yours.” 

Anti lets out a low sigh, putting on the last smile he can muster for the night. 

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always so, so appreciated. Thank you so much!
> 
> Please come chat with me over at voidskelly.tumblr.com!


End file.
